I walk outside and take in the fresh air-
it smells like a place that I remember.
sometimes I come home and nobody's there,
and I feel old each year in september.crunching the colorful leaves in the fall,
and clinging to my insecurity.
I could patch up all the cracks on the wall,
but blood stains the curtains of purity."it's time to wake up! time to rise and shine,
it's sunday and we have a dinner guest."
you were never mine and I guess that's fine,
I'll put on a dress, try to look my best.life can be a shallow grave that has turned,
and I chased the sun too much and got burned.
YOU ARE READING
The Road to Paradise
PoetryThis book has a bunch of poems that have bits and pieces of my life in them. I write whatever comes to mind, and it usually makes sense. But everything has a hidden meaning. Of course, some of it is random, but it all comes together (plus I like to...